Robin Meredith

I think this varies a lot by region. I would probably agree with you for the most part when it comes to New World wines, but our experiences with European wines have been quite different. We started buying wine seriously in the 1989 and 1990 vintages, and most of the Bordeaux we purchased from those years (including some fairly humble bottles) is just now entering it's prime - we certainly haven't stumbled across anything that appears to be over the hill. In fact, I was quite taken aback the other night by a 1990 Beaune premier cru from Jadot that was in the "sweet spot" of perfect drinkability - made me think we consumed the rest of our 1990 Burgundy way too early. Our cellaring conditions have been good but not perfect - we have a temperature controlled room, but we've moved a few times and our cooling units have not always been in perfect working order. I would tend to shy away from Bordeaux and Burgundy without proper storage conditions, but New World wines and even some gutsier Old World categories like Chateaneuf-du-Pape and other Southern Rhone wines should be pretty safe bets. And if you just have a few bottles the refrigerator is probably a worthwhile investment IMHO, especially if you plan on holding some things longer than one or two years.

Elk is indeed closed - just walked by yesterday.

And that's exactly what I meant when I said the prix fixe just felt like a shorter tasting menu. I didn't necessarily come away hungry from either of our meals at EMP - the issue has more to do with expectations. When I order a multicourse tasting menu I expect it to be a trade-off between breadth and depth - I get to sample a larger number of ingredients and preparations and flavor combinations in exchange for reduced portion sizes and/or less complex platings. EMP's Aquatic tasting menu exceeded my expectations for this type of meal. On the flipside, I expect a prix fixe menu to deliver a deeper impression of each dish through larger portion sizes that give you an opportunity to really explore the interplay between the elements on the plate (and in many cases the plate may even include some additional components not offered on its tasting menu counterpart), and that's where the prix fixe menu at EMP left me feeling a bit frustrated.

Distinctly less enthused about this place after last night's meal. Menu options now include the standard prix fixe ($68), the five course Aquatic menu we had last week ($85), and a 7-8 course Summer menu ($115). Since the Aquatic menu hadn't changed and the Summer menu was longer than we prefer, we ended up with the prix fixe. First courses were strong (seared foie gras with sweet corn, blueberries and lime for my wife and a poached egg with frog legs and chanterelles for me). Main courses were unexciting and, frankly, skimpy. I know it's not "sophisticated" to carp about portions in a restaurant like this, but my main course consisted of an approximately 3 oz. rectangle of suckling pig, one cippolini onion, one (very) baby leek, and a small quenelle of apricot chutney. My wife's main paired a similar amount of protein with about 10 peas and some sauces. Compared to the tasting menu we had last week the ratio seems off - these portions weren't significantly larger, and they make the prix fixe menu seem like a relatively poor value in comparison (for $17 more the Aquatic menu gives you an additional (substantial) amuse, an extra course, and a pre-dessert, and since it includes the only menu item that carries a supplement the total difference is actually less than $17). On the upside, cheese is offered as an alternative to dessert with no supplement (an unusual and very nice touch that more restaurants should adopt), and my salty chocolate caramel dessert was superb. There's an element of personal disappointment here also - I enjoyed chef Humm's cooking so much last week, I was actually looking forward to ordering off the prix fixe menu assuming that it would be an opportunity to enjoy some larger, more complex plates and really appreciate the flavor combinations. As it was, it just felt like a shorter tasting menu.

The Rodeo Bar offers green chile rojas as a topping for its burgers - that may be as close as you're gonna get. Also, as a former Westerner who's been visiting Santa Fe regularly for about 20 years, the notion that you can't make a green chile burger without New Mexico chiles seems kind of silly - it's a burger, for pete's sake. The Anaheims you see in local markets are admittedly a poor substitute, but Mark Miller markets a great Green Chile Sauce in his Coyote Cocina line - grab a jar of that and do a little experimenting and you're bound to come up with something good.

The buzz surrounding this place is definitely justified based on our visit last night. We had the Aquatic tasting menu, which was exactly as represented on their web site, so I won't go into great detail on every course (although the web site doesn't mention the parade of three amuses that came before the menu started, including a scaled down version of the fennel/radish/orange salad from the prix fixe menu). I was a bit perplexed by the scallops "chaud-froid", since previous reviewers indicated that this dish had both warm and cold components (as the name would suggest) - last night's preparation was strictly cold, but still quite nice (and fairly generous with the caviar). The St. Pierre course was a visual showstopper - a small square of whitefish with gorgeous cucumber "scales" accompanied by a squash blossom stuffed with ratatouille cut into the finest imaginable dice. Tasted good, too. The cheese course was the only real misfire from my perspective - a small cylinder of goat cheese that was really salty. I complain about salt in a dish about once every 10-15 years on average, so if I say it's salty it really is - not sure if this was an excess application of fleur de sel or something inherent in the cheese itself. Dessert amuse was an unexceptional watermelon and berry concoction, and the main dessert itself was serviceable but unexciting. The really great thing about this meal was the opportunity to enjoy truly ambitious cuisine in a "Danny Meyer" setting - meaning great service, spacious tables, a lovely room, a thoughtful and affordable wine program (we had a wonderful Saumur-Champigny Blanc from Thierry Germain for only $46), and well-paced execution (we were there for 2.5 hours but the meal never seemed to drag). We were thoroughly underwhelmed by our previous (pre-Humm) visit, but we will be making this a regular destination for the next few months.

After many, many completely satisfying visits over several years we had our second or third consecutive disappointing visit to Lupa yesterday. Starters were fine (carciofi alla romana and the oxtail terrine salad), and my wife's ricotta gnocchi was as remembered from previous visits, but my bucatini amatriciana was a gluey, muddy tasting, brownish mess, with caramelized flavors that suggested the sauce may have scorched a bit at the bottom of the pot - no pork or chili flavors were in evidence (and I remember this dish being seriously spicy in the past). As someone said earlier, the meal wasn't bad overall, but I've generally expected more than that from Lupa.

I seem to recall a story/legend/myth circulating at one point that he had some sort of stipulation in his will that would prevent any of his heirs from ever planting Chardonnay on his property. I've sampled occasional bottles from the 1983 through 1991 vintages and never come across a great one, but that story makes me like him regardless.

You're right, FG - I loved the dining room, and the wines were terrific (I always appreciate being able to drink well for a reasonable sum at a restaurant of that caliber), but the food was a bit austere and cerebral - no luxury ingredients whatsoever (not a hint of foie gras, truffles, or caviar, even though this was in December), very subtle, lacking in the sort of fireworks I always hope for (and that I remember experiencing in spades at my one dinner with Robuchon in Paris). I should probably rephrase my original post - I might actually go back to Robuchon before Bradley Ogden, but that's mainly due to history - he completely blew me away in Paris, and I probably need to give him one more chance to do it here. Also, if I was planning a special occasion blowout Robuchon would not be my first choice - for me, it's always more fun to go to a place I can afford to really indulge than to push the limits and feel like I have to skimp. If you do go, I strongly recommend requesting a table in the main dining room rather than the "garden room" on the side. Good luck resolving your dilemna!

Haven't been to GS so this will be a somewhat incomplete answer. We got out of Robuchon for somewhere between $500 and $600 (I'm thinking around $560) with the short tasting menu and modest wine (A full bottle of white burgundy in the $70-80 range and a half bottle of Bandol around $30 to $40 - there may have been a couple of glasses of Champagne in there also). So you can do it on the outside upper end of your price range - however, I'm probably much more likely to return to Bradley Ogden than to repeat at Robuchon at this point.

I can heartily endorse that three-onion risotto - best restaurant risotto I've had in long time. I'm curious about the smoked steak - just how smoky is it? What is your guess as to how it is prepared? I tend to go for lunch on Saturday, and that's one of the heartier things on the menu, but I've never gotten around to ordering it.

We've been to the Wine & Chile Fiesta at least half a dozen times. Unlike some similar events (e.g. the Aspen Food & Wine Classic), it is completely a la carte - tickets for each event are sold individually, so you can do as much or as little as you want. Comments from fyfas on the grand tasting are spot on - it's a must-do, but purchase tickets early, get the parking pass, and don't plan on dinner that night. The out-of-town excursions can be fun - we've been to the Chimayo and Rancho de Los Golondrinas events, both of which were like high school field trips with really nice food and wine lunches tacked on. Tour guides in both cases were very good. Even though I don't care for the restaurant in general, the kickoff luncheon at Coyote Cafe has been a pretty reliable success. I'm a card carrying wine geek but the wine seminars to me are less interesting and generally poor values - we will usually pass on those unless something really catches our fancy. As mentioned earlier, wine dinners vary greatly - we had a spectacular Veuve Clicqout dinner in a private room at the Compound last year, but other dinners we've attended have been much more casual. If you find a winery/restaurant pairing that interests you it's probably worth trying at least one. For us the Fiesta ends up being more of a backdrop for our visit than the focal point - the flexible schedule gives you plenty of time to get out of town or get some other non-food & wine related things done. Hope this helps!

We were at The Old House a few months ago - they had just gone through a chef change (their former chef moved to Anasazi) and were definitely not firing on all cylinders. Three out of four courses had fairly serious execution flaws, to the point where they ended up comping a significant portion of our meal. Having said that, I'd be interested in some current reports on Anasazi. I wasn't thrilled with my previous visit, but it seems like there has been a significant talent upgrade in the kitchen. Any recent experiences?

Jaymes is so right about La Fonda - even if you don't stay there, try to have breakfast in their dining room or a drink in the lobby bar just to soak up the atmosphere (as long as you don't have to pass up breakfast at any of the places previously mentioned to do so). njduchess, based on our one experience there I wouldn't have too many regrets about missing Ristra - we found Tulips to be much more satisfying in a similar stylistic vein.

If your dates aren't already locked in, consider attending the Santa Fe Wine & Chile Fiesta at the end of September: www.santafewineandchile.org We go every year - it's a great time to visit, and the Big Event at the Santa Fe Opera that caps off the Fiesta is a model of it's type. As a New Yorker currently in the process of moving to Santa Fe, here are some suggestions: *This is one of the great breakfast cities in the entire world. Guadalupe Cafe, Tia Sophia's, and Cafe Pasqual's are all "can't miss" places. Tecolote Cafe is less good than it used to be but a good spot for a gringo breakfast if you OD on chiles. *There are few places on the planet I would rather be than the rooftop cantina at Coyote Cafe for margaritas and guacamole. Rumors that the restaurant itself has gone downhill should be heeded. *I absolutely would not recommend Geronimo even though everyone else will - there are a few hundred better places in New York, so why bother - the place absolutely reeks of pretention. If you want a non-Southwestern fine dining experience the Compound is a much better option - lovely atmosphere, gracious service. *Tulips is a quirky little place with some nice creative cooking - our first two meals there were great but the last was a bit of a disappointment. *La Casa Sena is an old standby that slipped off the radar but may be making a rebound, and it's in an ancient courtyard that is one of the most romantic spots in Santa Fe. *For an "out of town" experience head to the Tesuque Village Market (and drive up Bishop's Lodge road - don't take the highway). Buy a bottle of wine in the market, get a steak smothered with green chile, sit outside and suck it all in. *Speaking of steak smothered with green chile, the Pink Adobe is one of those old institutions that never changes and shouldn't - order the steak Dunnigan and enjoy the setting (and get there early enough for a drink at the Dragon Room across the alley). *Blue corn enchiladas with red chile at the Shed is a must for lunch. *Go to Maria's. Call in advance and reserve one of the booths across from the bar. Plan on drinking more margaritas than you probably should. Order a bowl of green chile to keep things in balance. *For real Santa Fe color, hit the bar at El Farol during happy hour, and say hi to the guy who looks just like Willie Nelson. *We always stay at the Inn on the Alameda - moderately priced, centrally located, nice amenities.

The North Fork Table and Inn opened in Southold last weekend in the space formerly occupied by Coeur Des Vignes. This is a bit of a milestone for the North Fork dining scene due to the involvement of husband and wife team Gerry Hayden (Amuse) and Claudia Fleming (Gramercy Tavern). The dining room has been nicely renovated with a clean "Hamptons country" look. Servers are obviously well intentioned but a bit rough around the edges, as you would expect this early in the game. Music was overly loud and occasionally somewhat unusual (a brassy, jazzy version of the Nutcracker on Memorial Day weekend?). We had the five course tasting menu ($68), which included: *Fluke sashimi with grapefruit - very nice but almost too small to register on the palate. The a la carte portion included five pieces of fluke, the tasting menu portion just one - two might have been better. *Asparagus risotto - this was great, full of rich green springtime flavors, prepared perfectly. In this case the portion could actually have been a bit smaller, but I'm not complaining. *Soft shell crab with morels and sugar snap peas - a surprisingly complete failure given how good everything else was. The morels were completely flavorless, the peas extremely al dente, the breading mostly refused to adhere to the crab and when it did it overpowered the flavor of the main ingredient. A puzzling dish. *Lamb chops with potato gratin and leeks(?) - two perfectly cooked rosy rib chops, a bit fattier and more flavorful than usual, wonderfully rich and creamy potato gratin, slightly undercooked, crunchy leeks (I think). *Bonus dessert - panna cotta with rhubarb, strawberries, and berry sorbet - very nice well balanced fruit flavors. I almost never order panna cotta, so I can't really comment on that portion of the dish, but this was a nice bonus. *Chocolate tart with coffee ice cream - great coffee ice cream with some intangible flavoring I coudn't pick out and a deep, richly flavored tart. Wine list was limited - fewer than 20 choices, almost all local, with prices for 3 oz. and 6 oz. pours. When we inquired about bottle prices we were told to mutiply the 6 oz. glass by four. Obviously a work in progress. All in all, a nice opening weekend performance. I probably wouldn't order the tasting menu again, but I think you could have a very nice meal here ordering off the a la carte menu (I'm looking forward to going back and getting more of that fluke!).

We ate at both the Atelier and the formal dining room during our last visit to Las Vegas, and came away simply appalled by the Atelier (I actually carried the receipt for our meal around with me for several months to jog my memory for the excoriating post I was planning on writing). In the interest of full disclosure, I had one of the two greatest meals of my life at Jamin in Paris, so my expectations may have been somewhat inflated. Neither restaurant comes close to that standard, but the formal dining room delivers an elegant and thoughtful (in some ways almost cerebral) experience that I would gladly repeat. Others have mentioned the curious practice of counting the amuse as one of the courses on the menu - I was also somewhat taken aback by this. Be forewarned that there are two dining areas with dramatically different settings - the main room is an absolutely lovely jewel box, but the garden room on the side is considerably less attractive (and actually somewhat humid on the night we were there due to all the foliage). I strongly recommend requesting a table in the main room when making reservations. Back to the Atelier - we found our meal there to be a shockingly poor value. Prices and portions occasionally bordered on offensive, preparations were uneven in both concept and execution, and the novelty aspect of the counter setting wore off pretty quickly. I wish I'd followed through on my resolution to write this up while the meal was still fresh in my mind, but I can say that I will absolutely not return given the number of other choices available in LV (in a completely different vein, our meal at Rosemary's the next evening was dramatically more enjoyable at about half the price, even with a pricey bottle of Sea Smoke Pinot Noir). It's great to have Chef Robuchon in the States - I suspect his goals and aesthetics have taken a different turn, but on a purely selfish level I hope that he someday finds a way to replicate the Jamin/Robuchon experience in one of his new establishments.

As a former winery owner this topic is near and dear to my heart. We charged a tasting fee. We kept it reasonable ($3 for 6 to 7 wines), and made it refundable with a $50 purchase. Given the fact that it was refundable with purchase, we actually preferred NOT to collect tasting fees - in fact, one of the statistics we used to measure at the end of the month was the ratio of tasting fees to total revenue - if that number started to increase we would look at making some changes to improve our sales conversion rate. As has been mentioned elsewhere, tasting fees also perform a valuable filtering function (screening out the "cocktail hour" crowd). Need evidence? Just tally up the number of people who call ahead asking if you charge for tastings. We also went to great lengths to present visitors with a quality experience - well-trained staff paid above the market average, good glassware, reasonable pours (none of that 5/8 oz. nonsense), and a tasting lineup featuring our better wines. I can count the number of complaints we received about our tasting fee on one hand. On the other hand, as a consumer I do tend to experience a bit of sticker shock when I visit wine regions with more aggressive tasting fees - on my last swing through Napa/Sonoma I estimated an average tasting fee of $2.00 - $2.50 PER WINE sampled (not per winery visit). This can easily add up to over $100 in a day, which does seem a bit excessive. On the other hand, I can't complain about the quality of the glassware or the generosity of the pours in any of the places I visited. No one wants to pay for microscopic pours in plastic cups presented by disinterested staff, but a modest tasting fee is reasonable compensation for a winery that makes an effort to do things right.

We bought a case of that 1988 Mouton on release based on the Spectator's review (our first ever first growth purchase). The last time I cracked a bottle I scored it around 85/86 (not that I actually score wines when I taste them, but this is where I thought it would land). The remaining 9 bottles were auctioned off earlier this month. I would strongly recommend the 1970 unless you have an aversion to older wines. Not sure what (or if) you're paying, but the 1988 isn't worth much IMHO.

Macon-Uchizy "Les Maranges" 2004 Les Heritiers du Comte Lafon I've been exploring these wines for several months now trying to recapture the magic of a 2002 Macon-Milly Lamartine we enjoyed at Robuchon in LV last December. No luck so far - a 2003 version of the same wine was predictably coarse, and a light, lemony 2004 Macon-Villages was very well made but lacking in distinction and perhaps not the best value at $20. This bottle was surprisingly oaky - not to the point of being out of balance, but I suspect that tasted blind I might have guessed New World rather than France. Difficult to match with food due to the combination of prominent oak and Old World fruit - it was a bit of a train wreck with sauteed soft shell crabs over fresh tomato-basil pasta. Generally lacking in verve and precision. At $26/bottle neither a house wine or a cellar candidate.

We visited Cafe D'Alsace for a light early dinner last night. The inside seating was completely booked, but they were able to accomodate us at an outside table. We are big Tarte Flambe fans, so I've been looking forward to visiting this place ever since it opened. When the Tarte Flambe arrived at our table (about four minutes after we placed our order, a very bad sign), it was one of those moments when you know just by looking at the plate that you are in trouble. It was about six inches in diameter, completely dry (no moisture whatsoever from melted cheese or cream), aggressively carmelized on top, with a crust that was so chewy it was hard to tear - the thing just stretched rather than breaking. There was a faint hint of onion flavor but the onions themselves were imperceptible. I'm not sure what this was, but it wasn't Tarte Flambe. On the other hand, a grilled pork sausage was decent, and the beer list is definitely interesting. Not a representative meal given how little we ordered, but the Tarte Flambe is a major problem.

I'm currently enjoying (and that should probably be in capital letters) some Hidalgo Manzanilla La Gitana in 500ml bottles purchased from a discount retailer on Long Island (Bottle Buys or Bottles and Cases, I can never keep them straight). I've been a big fan of this wine for years, but this particular stash has two major virtues: *The absolutely delightful 500ml format (perfect as an aperitif for two or three); *A date coding system on the back label which tells you when bottling took place (these were dated November 2002). As for the storage question - I've been keeping my eye on this, and I'm not noticing any appreciable deterioration after 3-5 days in a cold fridge (this is a non-issue for the most part, since the bottles just seem to disappear ). They do, however, need time to warm up - drinking this stuff at refrigerator temperature is a crime. I remember attending a seminar on sherry many years ago - the moderator (Karen Macneil) was making a big deal about how fragile the wines are and how quickly they must be consumed, and the owner of Hidalgo chimed in and said they should keep for at least a week in the refrigerator - this may be one of those situations where we make things harder than they really need to be in the name of connoiseurship.

I was thinking about some of the reservations Craig has expressed about the 1997 vintage, so I pulled this out of the cellar last night to check it out for myself. Brilliant medium/dark ruby color. Briary, jammy, almost sauvage aromas. Tasting blind, I would have identified this as a Santa Barbara County Syrah with a fairly high degree of certainty - it has the same aromatic profile (and even some of the same flavors) I tend to associate with Syrah from that region. Youthful and well-balanced on the palate - tight, concentrated fruit buttressed by some bright acids and moderate but persistent tannin. Absolutely nothing "Nebbiolo" about it from a flavor standpoint, so this would seem to support some of the complaints about lack of typicity in this vintage. Tasted with bucatini all'amatriciana (not something I would normally put in front of an important red, but I was in the mood, so what the heck). The somewhat elevated alcohol in the wine fought with the chiles in the sauce a bit, but the wine had enough acidity to stand up beautifully to the tomatoes. One of the better red wine matches I've had with this dish. If the acids came from the vineyard (not from the lab) I'd say this is well-balanced enough to improve for 5 to 10 years in the bottle. If not, who knows?

Here's another thought. My wife offered me some of her grapefruit juice at breakfast this morning, but I was drinking coffee at the time, and coffee and citrus are two things that I generally like to keep as far apart as possible (if you've ever gone straight from your orange juice to your coffee you have an inkling of what I'm talking about here). Maybe the same thing applies to wine, with oak standing in for the coffee and white wine (which is almost always higher in acid than red wine) standing in for the grapefruit juice. I'm no flavor scientist, but it seems like oak and coffee have some common elements, and it may be that those flavor compounds just don't interact very gracefully with fruit acids. What do you think?

This analogy is likely to fall apart somewhere along the way, but I'll give it a try: My favorite marinade for grilling is a basic dijon mustard/garlic/olive oil/red wine vinegar/hot pepper flakes concoction. I love to use it with pork and lamb, because the assertive flavors of the marinade work nicely with the flavors of the meat. I've never thought about using it with chicken breasts, because I figured you probably wouldn't taste anything but the marinade. I've always thought of Chardonnay as the chicken of grape varieties - a relatively neutral vehicle that allows both the characteristics of terroir and the influence of the winemaker to shine through rather clearly. I'm a big fan, but the grape clearly doesn't have the sort of distinctive varietal character you might associate with Riesling or Gewurtztraminer or even Sauvignon Blanc. It just doesn't bring that much of itself to the table. So it's like the grilled chicken - all you taste is the "marinade". Unfortunately, I think the analogy is already broken, because I can't think of anything more repulsive than oaky Riesling or Muscat or Gewurtztraminer, despite the intense flavor profiles of those varieties. Maybe it's like putting sorrel sauce on your steak - it's just wrong.